[Prologue] From behind the cloak, a dagger comes

[Riconus Xind'ell]

TimestampThe Last Brightening of Kalendryas, in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.


"Left! Left! Left, Right, Left!
Left! Left! Left, Right, Left!
Left! Left! Left, Right, Left!"

In between the gallant hymms of the trumpeteers, such cadences could be heard from men standing at the front of three perfect squares of one hundred men each. A dark blue, light blue and gray tricolor standard was held up high by an elaborately armored soldier in each centuri, who marched in the middle of their comrades for maximum protection. Aside from armor found on those three individuals, however, the protection all other 297 soldiers was fairly ordinary; a chainmail tunic that ran to the knees and elbows, skull caps and leather braces made up the unit's attire, as well as a basic spear and a kite shield painted blue in a variety of enchanting patterns.

This was the contigent that hoped to change the base of power in Aelyria, and to motivate the commonwealth of the Empire to take charge of their own destiny. It was dubbed the Sapphire Guard, a unit who had already made great strides in Arium and Prime provinces, using ex-Imperial Legionnaires to train ordinary citizens into an organized militia. In fact, it was the 300 soldiers gathered outside the gates of Frigid River who were just that: ordinary people, poised to help out their fellow citizens in defending what was theirs. In truth, it was these men who learned the hard way how even the pedestrian worker needed to know to protect himself, for many were Paxians who were forced to leave their homes and loved ones following the orcish invasions... it was perhaps many of their hopes that none would have to face that destiny again.

Of coarse, like every other material being, the prospect of fame and fortune also held great sway for these people. Who knew what wonders and treasures would be discovered when the time was made to lash out against those who sought them harm? ... the prospect of lashing back at places like Malice and Ire made the men all the more prepared to fight under the Sapphire Guard's banner.

At the forefront of the envoy, a dozen or so individuals rode on horseback, looking far more professional, and garbed in plate. Their posture and presentation was definately the markings of a former Legionnaire, as they flanked the sides of a large wagon, the sound of gold crowns shuffling inside it upon every bump on the road. At the very helm though, was a tall Syl'rosyan in black plate and chain, with a grand jaguar hide draped over his shoulders and back. The officer's galae of an Imperial General rested on his head, with massive white and gold plumes imploding from the helm's center.

On his daunting black warhorse, it was the cavalier in black armor who would be first to approach the city guardsmen, raising an open palm before his soldiers ceased marched in a fair deal of unison. A moment or two of sizing the city up transpired before he finally dismounted from his stead, and removed his elaborate galae to reveal flopping black hair, ice blue eyes, and a face hardened from years of military service and command. Despite this, he still approached the guardsmen with a warm smile, and after distributing nods of recognition and respect to each individual standing watch over the gate, the considerably tall elf spoke finally, and with a distinctive Syl'rosyan accent.

"Serale, guardsmen. My name is Sir Riconus Xind'ell, Earl & Thane of Portshire. I also hold claim as General of the Sapphire Guard, a People's Army devoted to the protection and defense of the common man.

With your permission, I humbly request you allow us passage, so that I my contingent can advance to the city barracks, meet with any commanders in charge of Frigid River's defense, and begin to strengthen the commonwealth in yet another hard-working city. We have visas for each and every man in our convoy - all 318 of them - and will cooperate with any search you deem necessary."

With a high chest, Riconus waited patiently for a response, carrying the most subtle glint in his eyes. The most subtle of smile gleamed from between his lips as well, at the thought of returning to Frigid River for many of the same reasons as his initial visit. He was here to stir the pot just that much more, and by the gods, he was going to have some bloody fun to doing it.

[Wildcard]

Spitting tobacco into the snow, a grizzled human clothed in a dark green cloak and commoner's garment squinted against the suns while inspecting the procession's lead horse. He approached with an irritable calm and scratched his unshaven kneck in gregarious tedium. "Aye, I've heard the name.. First Kaldres, now You. Hmmph."
The guardsman blinked away the frost, inspecting several visas idly.
"Welcome to Frigid. Ain't none of you getting through the 'Cedar though." He handed the documents back impassively. "Set up camp to the southeast of the Gates, 'ar near the fresh spooks." Disgusted the warden turned his back and walked away without another word, as if the sight of three hundred strong was to be an insult rather then a gift.

Sympathetically a younger bright eyed ranger with the tattoo of a crescent moon crowned between his brow took over. Slender elven ears rose through curls of honey brown hair as the icy irises presented empathy. "Forgive Old Donner Lord Xind'ell. The city has come up hard, which has a tendency of making it's very finest that much mare Knotted." The Sylrosian guard closed his eyes into the spectrum of rising light, resting a smooth hand on Riconus's warhorse. "You see sir, your company isn't the first to outbrag the vaulted sky." He paused to step in close. "We've a number of sellswords, private armies and fortunate sons lean anto the treasury of my masters..." A sour expression turned the Elf's cautious features in passing. "And none for the mending I can assure th' stature of that m'lord."
There was a real moment of silence as the lithe ranger took stock of Sapphire Guard's numbers. "Right. Do as my captain says, make camp north of the cemetery and once ye've settled head t'tha authentic Imperial command far' east... Be warned you'll be lodged near The Slain.. A right Double-fatal crew of villains. O'r west of the mainland strikes the Carrion Fields as we likes to call 'em. The main rest of'to the leeches that lose life and bend the coin in passing. You want wisdom? Stay clean and clear. A Charge free pearl 'that." The intelligent tracker patted the haulted steed firmly in a show of staunch solidarity towards his fellow Rangers. "Be well Earl of Portshire.. I am Belmont."

Before the multicolored bristling banners lay open country sloped to meet evergreens at every edge. West of the road fell into a wide tented meadow of dark canvas and temporary lodgings. Gypsy wagons and campfires lay secluded before timber barracks hewn from the very forests behind as trails dodged into a multitude of directions. Beyond that, ancient lumber yards and strongly cut paths lead towards rock and stone summits of the High Peak mountain range, lost to the powerful torrent and flow of the searing deep blue river it's self. To the east gave off steam of glistening hot springs barricaded by trees, southeast was a flat plain that in elder days had served as Riconus's training grounds and still berthed the outline of a stained imperial flagged bastille. On further decline the forest and open relocated graves of the new burial grounds could barely be sought. These sights were expansive and layered in a weaving fusion of cultures, colors and sounds like levels of sedimentary rock. Mountains rose, close ere far to every bearing but the means of arrival, sloping and sealing the landscape into an awe inspired mystery of mist, sky and solid stone. It was breathtaking in beauty, stark white in it's sharp purity. Coniferous trees blanketed the horizon as far as the eye could see, up to the cliffs and ridges far to the south, east and west.

Smoke from the fortified city of Frigid River swept up beyond sight as it's granite and wooden walls seemed to mock the Guard in their grasp of the unattainable. They would do best to learn the language and chains of command before making waves.. or start at the top and swath their way down. These hills had seen their share of the crimson glory.. and our book has even yet to begin. They would see it again, as fate would have it.. Blood was the flowing ink and catalyst of the Telath's bones, it's future branded by the timeless struggle of it's orphans and kin. Armor then glinted like a sea before the cavalier as he took bearing of his next opening move.

[Riconus Xind'ell]

Riconus wasn't too phased by the old guardsmen, for there was plenty like him around when he first arrived in Frigid River all those many patterns ago. And just like his previous visit, it was men like Donner that he would have to win over to succeed. Belmont, on the other hand, was quite the more diplomatic type, and one he could easily imagine as a good officer, after a little bit of good experience.

"Thank you for your kind instruction, Belmont, I am surely indebted for your service. I will be sure to meet with the Imperial authorities as soon as I can, and am eager to find out if I still know anyone that once commanded in this neck of the woods. Serale, sir."

Indeed, Riconus once knew a great deal of high-ranking officers in the 25th Imperial Legion of Frigid River, mainly due to the fact that it was he who raised them to their offices. It was quite the substantial amount of time that he was a Kestor Imperatis in the Imperial Army, and General-in-Command of the Lauryllian Legions. Thus, he could distinctly recall a stout human going by the name Horrgin Ironfist, who he once appointed as Imperatis of the Triumphant Defenders... alas, with how defunct the Imperial Legions were now, after being shuffled in and out of war for the past few patterns, who knew if he still had anyone in Frigid River to talk about the good all brightenings.

Quickly, Riconus assembled his men and ordered them to make camp outside the city gates, in the area that they had been assigned to. Although Belmont had advised him to keep away from the armies that occupied land beside them, The Slain & Carrion Fields instead became a keen interest, and so, as his soldiers began setting up their tents, his officers were summoned, with new instructions to enter the neighbouring encampments. After receiving instructions, an officer of the Sapphire Guard was accompanied by 10 men, who would go into either field of The Slain or Carrion Fields, with this messege.

"Sir Riconus Xind'ell, Earl of Portshire and General of the Sapphire Guard, requests you for a parley. Accept, and we will offer your unit 1000 crowns for your participation, with much more revenue garaunteed should we be able to form a proper accordance. Do you accept?"

Meanwhile, Riconus himself didn't waste too much time heading to the Imperial encampment to the east, wearing his battle kit of black plate & chain, along with a galae adorned by massive plumes of blue & gold. Upon closer inspection, the markings on the galae indicated the wearer as a General in the Imperial Legions. It would be easy for him to identify the Frigid River guardsmen from the Legionnaires, and upon finding the latter, he gave a crisp salute, before stating his business, along with names and titles.

"Serale, soldiers. My name is Sir Riconus Xind'ell, Earl of Portshire, General of the Sapphire Guard, former Kestor Imperatis of the Lauryllian Legions, and former Provost Imperatis of the Western Imperial Army.

I am here to declare my intentions to aid the City of Frigid River, on behalf of the Sapphire Guard." He hated having to use all his titles in an introduction, for it never became him to be full of himself. But, if sounding like he was some smug piece of crap accelerated his meeting with the right people, then it would appear that he had no choice.

[Wildcard]

Riding towards the Imperial compound gave the veteran soldier a slight tingle up the spine. It brought back so many memories, aspirations of a young figurehead whose seasoned reasoning and leadership defended not only the borders of Frigid River, but the entire province of Lauryl it`s self. Strange how things carried on without the elements that set them in place.. Above his evenly pitched gait, Riconus could feel the shadow of time loom above from the now collapsing halls of the Citadel before him. The City walls were being rebuilt, that much was obvious, but this.. This was an insult to everything he helped found. Something had ravaged the entire compound, blackened it`s stone while crushing it`s proudest spires. There had been a battle here, a cooling dispute that ended badly.. hopefully for more then one of the parties involved. A legless legionnaire stood on crutches besides his brethren, admiring Xind`ell`s armor and speech. Judging from the audience, the General could almost taste the disdain and despondent cynicism that had overtaken these men... but no. No sharp words were exchanged, only of all things a smile. There was an eery rush of whispers that carried over the crowd as the lead warhorse and his cadre of closest men were allowed passage to tie off their mounts and follow the wounded soldier through the barracks and into the reconstruction of the tower above.

Limping up a flight of stairs, the party observed that ancient siege equipment was now being used as scaffolding to hold the building from decaying further. Entire floors had been destroyed, so a winch and crane had been set into the center of the castle which acted as a freight elevator taking Riconus`s party up eighteen counted floors. From these heights it was easy to see the black ravage that had gripped the very edges of the city it`s self as many of the buildings nearest the walls still lay swathed in soot and destruction above the snow, despite active revitalization and fresh defense. Swaying mildly from gales of wind, the feathers on the General`s helmet dodged too and fro while his own soldiers shifted uneasily behind. Something ferocious and horrifying had gripped these lands, something which had quieted the populace for reasons that burned at his gut for the asking. Why had no one come to the aid of these valiant and noble warriors? Why did they suffer.. and by who`s authority? Excitedly the crippled legionnaire queried light conversation about the journey, ignoring and empathizing with questions as to his condition.

Finally arriving topside, the enclave made passage to the very office Riconus once held as his own, it`s double doors laying hingeless to either side while busy engineers carefully refitted their pins.
Entering with a salute, the first thing he made eye contact on was bandaged figure so disfigured from wounds and violence that his visage was entirely unidentifiable. This man`s cuts glowed iridescently green at the edges, the left leg missing and swathed as well as the left forearm and most of the right hand. Soiled bandages and old linen lined his body, endlessly covering what looked to be the mauling of ten wolverines. As the commanding officer shifted gaze, the entering Sylrosian could see a large darkly absent jewel strapped to the figure`s chest, reflecting a faint glow of purple and haunting swirls of green off the shining plate of it`s guest's armor. Coughing, the twitch of a mouth found between two dried straps opened and closed like a leaking bellows.

''Well I`ll be Damned. Actually I am. Come to stare and twitter at the faces of those you abandoned Provost?'' The man laughed sickly, fidgeting for a cup of water. ''Or now that there`s greed sought, you thought it was time to take the best interests of Lauryl`s people in mind again. Figures.. '' He mumbled something incomprehensible while continuing to lick two cut lips, breathing in then speaking with a raised voice.

''Fine. Welcome to Frigid River, you are hereby sworn .. da ta da ta da ..To protect and Serve it`s people to the best of your abilities .. Not steal our resources .. And if I hear any more Stories of RAPE and PILLAGE... I WILL Personally Scalp you dry and mail the Regent the receipt. 9000 Gold a Month till you prove your worth. A herald will relay your detail`s first assignment within the brightening. Have a peaceful fall back to whatever cadaverous sea section you crawled from.. good day.''

It was as if the man was listing off a tirade of rules that mercenary companies should follow, but got lost somewhere in the middle and abridged the rendition with his own special flair. Brushing Xind`ell away with the turn of his remaining wrist, the bed ridden Kestor plucked at several nearby grapes which he ate voraciously and without satisfaction. The Earl's men remained fast, as if expecting a response from their master to help bridge the gap of gravity between what they had seen and now what they must endure.

[Riconus Xind'ell]

If one thought Riconus to look confused or beside himself, they would certainly be right. When he left Frigid River - a move that was not of his own volition - the city was a thriving new trading hub for the province, with an ever-increasing populace... but such, quite obviously, was no longer the case. Despite the legionnaire being of a much lower rank, Riconus still stood at attention when the humble soldier spoke, and walked with a rigid back, in respect for the sacrifice the man had made.

As they progressed up the makeshift elevator, the questions dancing in his head began to multiply, turning to the small handful of senior commanders he brought along with him to see that they too carried the same puzzled look to them. His galae was removed just as they were about to enter his old stomping grounds, but instead of seeing his elaborate quarters of patterns past, it was a grim sight that he was forced to endure, occupied by an individual who appeared just as damaged as the room itself.

"Bloody hell..." whispered Riconus under his breathe, praying that the man he stood before was not Ironfist, his old comrade. He could expect that the man, whomever he was, was somewhat unhospitable, but whether it made a difference or not, he wanted to ensure that his departure was not voluntary. "Abandoned is a bit much, Sir. The only reason I left was because the damn Regent forced my reassignment to Prime, so that he could keep tabs on me... I see this is the result of that decision."

Perhaps he would have been able to stay on the Western Front if he could just keep his mouth shut, but following the appointment of that idiot named Arkahn Tha'lashar to be Minister of War, there was no way Riconus would stomach that katta's rediculous commands with a bit tongue.

9000 crowns wasn't a great deal of money, but Riconus hardly felt it appropriate to negotiate for a better amount. The only thing on the Syl's mind, as he gazed out the damaged windows to witness that blackness of war and destruction, was to find out just what happened following his departure.

"I will do all I can for the city, sir. I have done it before, and this time, I don't have some spoiled Imperial brat looking over shoulder. But before I get to my assigned duties," Riconus slowly walked closer to the soldier's bed, before continuing. "Perhaps you can explain to me just what in Aeternia happened here?

And, if you would be so kind, perhaps I can learn of your name, Imperatis?" With his final answer, he could only prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

[Wildcard]

Popping a grape to his brittle mouth, the figure seemed over-confident with an edge of subtle horror traced over his mannerisms. He was ready to die but hadn't the mock-courage to do it himself. Riconus's words suspended the superior officer's pose, as if they painted an illustration not thought of before. Compelled this bandaged mess took a blunt butter knife and not so smoothly snapped the cords that swathed his eery complexion. The noise of plated armor shifted uneasily in the background as several soldiers prepared for such revealing hallmark. There was no sound ushered from Xind'ell, for with the gravity of his gaze came a layer of grim unflinching steadiness. The Elflord watched his host cut layer after layer of delicate swath and cloth, pad and mixture to find a face without nose nor cheek. A set of besieged teeth lay claim to the ruddy decomposition. Open nostrils caved under the sliding sockets of wet cornea and pulsating red trim. In the leftover silver running round the discordance of the left eye found familiarity. It was a man whom Riconus trained, trimmed and graduated. It was Horrgin the Madfisted.

"Aye M'lord. It IS I. Your old -friend." The remains of a man slumped over pathetically, lids closed. "This gem round my gullet is the only option that still keeps me to this world... 'Aetherwine wants me alive... for reasons I can but stare the surface of. Not every brightening a Wizard worth his granite stones gives a rat's petticoat 'bout legionnaires.. so I shall describe the interjection as... sweet gravy. " Sullen sadness made the clarity of those words ring immediately sour.

The man cleared his throat, attended to by a young male page.

"Now then." Horrgin sat straight. "They call me the Luckiest man in the Legion. Horrgin Horror." It's jawline visibly flinched when cutting a smile. "If it please you a're not that is my name, you will subject to the title of Imperatis." Water came as several servants padded at another breaking wound. He cleared his throat with a fresh vigor. "You wish to know the events that transpired here which led to the mutilation and destruction of Lauryl's finest. So be it. One fabled Darkening the skyline to the west lit it's trees with fire. Purple, Blue.. Sapphire.. RED. The forests burned like cosmic dust, privy to omens of unspoken sobriety. Attend me.." Horror coughed up dark gray vomit into a ruined jerkin bearing Imperial mark.

"When I say light, I don't mean the shallow pretty daze of a moot... but grave leaping Flames burning with acidic stink and the wrenching residue of sheer calamity. Through this 'cradle leaped Things.." Eyes poured over lost thoughts absently loosing focus. "Monsters."

"Beasts of such inspired chaos, that I thought the very shelves of our world be coming down on every side. Horrors.." He winced at the irony. "Like no manner of creature yet seen by mortal or near-immortal alike." He meant Elves. "Awash is the glow of this tyranny, summoned and fueled by .. Hunger. Vehemence so thick it cut my men down like nuns at an orgy. We- We COULD NOT HOLD. We couldn't hold... We- Couldn't."

The wounded Kestor turned away like a shamed child, then made contact quietly once more. "We have no manner of idea why, or what transpired. .. Only that They came, and we KILLED them. .. Since then our lords have hired every sellsword and freebooter this side of Sheridan. Caravan Defence, sentry posting, security has risen ten, twenty fold! - And I. I sit here weighing the words of my masters as each day little pieces more of me doth return."

He held up the stump of a right hand. "This was only an elbow."
Proudly, his words trailed on. "The corpses have been burned, but I saved a little clue." An ornate dinner plate fashioned from bronze swathed in red velvet did arrive. Peskily, he removed it's bearing to reveal a shrunken mass of black crystalline shaped like some grotesque organ. "The heart of the last beast I killed, right after it took 'm leg.." The room pandered in silence.

"You may go General. A detail will see to it your men are well fed."

And that was that. No more words were spoken. The first legionnaire would return them to their horses, and perhaps their encampment.

[Riconus Xind'ell]

Ironfist... dear gods, how unfair They were. His heart sank at the mention of his name, as all he could do was stand there is horror. So unlike was it of Riconus, but even water could be felt filling in his eyes. Only after clearing his throat did he address his men, although not turning his head to address them; he didn't want his commanders to see the look of utter humility that had plastered his face. "Men, leave us. I'll see you when I return to the encampment." They all gave firm salutes, before returning back down the shaft, leaving Riconus to endure the sight of Ironfist's shattered body being patched up.

"Mother of Aslan, Horrgin, this wasn't how I imagined we would meet again..." He grimaced in what he could almost feel as his own pain, as gray vomit was projected from his old counterpart's frail body. "Monsters?" Riconus repeated, unsure of what to think of the situation. "How was none of this present in the Herald? Surely the Empire would come to Frigid River's aid if it called for it." Not even he believed that, and it was clearly evident on his face. Still, an utter lack of care from the Imperial Forum was at least a little strange.

He surveyed the creature's heart as it was presented with some disdain, not quite sure how anyone - or rather, anything - could be sustained on such an organ. Certainly, this wasn't any run-of-the-mill creature coming out of the woodwork. However, when Ironfist dismissed the conversation, and returned to his misery, Riconus had no choice but to comply. He did not salute as he left, but only gave a nod of respect, adding quickly "I'll see you soon Horrgin, whether you like it or not."

From there, he returned to his encampment with the help of the legionnaire, where his men had already been building tents. His commanders already stood outside a larger tent structure, sized enough for Riconus' quarters and a conference center to be established. Once entering, the Syl lord gave quick instructions, with next to little hesitation.

"Alight gentlemen, here's the situation.

From what we've been told, strange creatures are the cause of this crapshoot. We're not sure what they are, but I would like to find out soon enough. With our efforts, we'll also be needing help... and by that, I mean finding some terms with the other mercenaries in this area." Riconus quickly went to a chest already being watched by three Sapphire Guardsmen, which carried in it enough gold to purchase a small piece of the city. After filling two pouches, he returned to the commanders at the table. "One of these pouches will go to the Carrion Fields group, the other will go to The Slain- each pouch carries 1000 gold crowns. Inform them that I wish to parley with them, and offer the 1000 crowns merely as gratitude for accepting my invitation.

Any questions? ... Good, dismissed." As the commanders left the tent, money bags in hand, a single officer remained in Riconus' presence. The man, a human of aging years, with a slim build and gray hair tied in a ponytail, was known to be the Syl's closest military advisor, although few even knew his name. "M'lord," said the nameless male. "By 'parleying' with these sellswords, what do you really mean?"

"Come now, you should know that already," commented Riconus. "I plan to buy them out, just like I've successfully bought every other gun-for-hire I've come across. I don't care how tough that guard thinks Carrion Fields and The Slain are; as soon as they see the amount of gold I'm ready to pass their way, they should get awefully friendly, awefully fast."

"But should they not comply, m'lord? What happens if you are not able to purchase their services, and they oppose your existence?"

"If I am unable to purchase their services, it will be unfortunate & surprising, but it cannot be helped. If they oppose me, however... well, you remember what happened to those thugs in Riparia, don't you?" asked Riconus, with a cunning smile on his face. "The only difference between my former adversaries in Riparia and my possible ones in Frigid River is that I had a few hundred hoodlums back then, and I have several thousand trained soldiers now."

[Wildcard]

Simple unobtrusive sentiment. The noise of crunching grapes left with the breeze but images of the spotted camp only entrenched the War General's resolution further. There was after all minimal damage to the city.. a schism opening several of the stone walls save for soot. The Imperial compound had been broken entirely, gutted inside and out.. like a siege.. as if there was to be something or someone of interest inside. Pure chaos would have taken to the vulnerability of civilians instead of attempting breach on the hardest surface contiguous to the peaks above.. No, logic dictated plot. Reason of some macabre density directed these unnamed forces here.. and if Xind'ell wanted answers, leaving a charismatic spy or two among the official ranks might delve deep enough to answer several well founded questions. Why had no news yet carried? What.. did they want. Which manner of forces were at work.. Goblinoids, foreign armies? Predators.. The list was long.

His armor glinted in the pale sunlight, as word from Riconus's earlier messengers had been dispatched and somewhat heeded. Several bands of riders and patchwork enclaves of dark leather both casually and cautiously approached. They formed a circle beyond the outskirts of the Sapphire Guard's terrain, finding fellowship beneath a gnarled and blackened chestnut tree. There were six bands of mercenaries total... of those that bothered to show at all. The Slain was the closest and held the largest contingency, yet there were also several companies of roving sellswords from the Carrion Fields beyond. Round a heavy rock under these boughs of frozen wood they stood from left to right; long sullen cloaks of dark fabric and fur rustling behind. No standards were given, these warriors were on mutually indifferent cursory terms. To the center a barbarian giant with great bearded locks of fire offset his sinking firmament before a league of armored and soiled champions behind.

"Get to the point Sapphire. My lot is due up for garrison in twenty."

Other crews of soldiers shifted their feet uneasily at the rising sharp winded baritone of this commanding vox.. cruel pale skin folding in determination above them. A Dracon of dark silver scales and aged pride stood aback within a smooth link of plated mail. It's voice cut like a dryad meeting an axe, with wet even eyes accosting Riconus's own approaching gaze.

"Pretty tin coating freshmeat.. Prying open your soft insides will be a sincerity of pleasure. Boarding grows wider on smaller fields, and for all the fright there's nothing to kill here but each other."

Several of the cutthroats assembled spit at the ground with the sound of the draconian's introduction, parading their despise for one so coldblooded. Standing beside the redbeared chieftain was a spry male elf with smooth ashen skin and long coalfed hair; his dark armor lifting in vain composure.
"Tibero' you come any closer with that spaded tongue and I'll use it's mock edge to fix 's a fresh latrine. 'Letting you soak in better functions then your own grated Cluck." Several gestures and voices of threatening and stark laughing bravado exchanged hands as blows rose ready to fall. The clatter of spears and shifting steel beat against the swimming clouds above. The leering giant did endure a moment longer then spat at the ground once again in disgust, thumping his club into the white earth like a traumatic gavel.

"SPEAK SAPPHIRE."

Not every man listened, squabbling beyond the furnace of vision. Yet the Mercenary Companies did hold their composure, cold and livid, awaiting effect to driven cause.

[Riconus Xind'ell]

"M'lord!" said a stewart as he rushed into Riconus' tent, saluting quickly before relaying his message. "The other mercenary leaders have been assembled. They stand by a chestnut tree just outside our camp's perimeter."

"Thank you, soldier." replied Riconus as he stood from his desk. "Inform the commanding ranks to meet me there." No moment was spared before making it to the rendevous point, for the Syl was still garbed in the black mail plating he rode in on. By the time he found the chestnut tree, his four or five officers of varied human and elven descent were already assembled there, one of which carrying a large burlap sack. Salutes were given one which way or another before Riconus could hear an unusual bickering amongst others around the area.

"Is there a fight somewhere I don't know about?" asked Riconus, looking around.

"It's the mercenaries, m'lord." replied one of the commanders. "They don't seem too interested in each other's existence, so it's best that we start this quickly."

"Very well." conceded the Syl lord, slowly walking towards the mercenary leaders, while taking one last look at the burlap sack one of his men carried. "If we could all just put the testosterone back in our pants, gentlemen!?" yelled Riconus to the mercenaries present. It seemed like he had his work cut out for him when it came to merging these skids together, but in the very least, they didn't seem too interested in idle chat, which was certainly something he prefered in a business partner. After staring each man down, with a face safe of any emotion, he began.

"... My name is Riconus Xin'dell; I'm General to more than 10,000 soldiers in the Sapphire Guard, have connections at every level of infastructure in the Imperial Legions, and know this little chunk of the Empire like it was the back of my gods forsaken hand.

But you don't care about that. You care about this." Quickly, Riconus turned to his men, removing the burlap sack from one of their hands and chucking it towards the mercenary leaders. It would land a few paces from their feet, but it was easy for them to see the bag's contents as it spilled out onto the thin layer of snow... it was crowns. Thousands, upon thousands, of gold crowns.

"You're looking for as much of that as possible, yes? Well work for me, and I'll give you plenty of it. While we're in Frigid River, I'll pay you the same the city is giving, plus I'll add 1,000 crowns to each of your monthly salaries. And when we go find whatever in Aeternia attacked this city, if there's spoils, I'll let your men keep 75% of it.

You don't have to like each other. You don't even need to talk to each other. All you have to do is carry the Sapphire Guard Banner on your patrols, and keep me informed of your activities. And when your time is up in Frigid River, I'll garauntee you at least 10,000 crowns worth of contracts for your mercenaries within the next pattern- for if there's ever been someone with a need for men like you, it would certainly be me.

Or..." said Riconus, his voice still methodic. "Or, we could just sit here with our thumbs up our arses, pissing & moaning at each others like girls in schola. It's entirely up to you." Riconus finally closed his trap, crossing his arms in front of him and awaiting their response. He had been dealing with mercs his entire damn life, and by the gods, these little bastards were either going to be beside him, or underneath him.

[Wildcard]

As the leader of the guard took stage, his audience looked on blankly and somewhat fatal. The snow crunched like cotton beneath the sodden trail of boots while steam matched breath. At the mention of gold most smirked or convened their faces into the knotting of trees.. The giant peered down toward several of the other mercenary companies digging greedily at the ground for spilled glistening metal. With the booming laughter of mirth, this mighty warrior turned silently and then left. His men followed. The cocky Elven warrior grabbed his description in jest towards the Dracon then stepped out with the rudest of hand gestures. The Slain had departed on uneasy terms.. leaving five companies more.

"Tibero" the Dark Dracon Warrior let it's soldiers take the fallen promise of wealth while contemplating their terms. The chestplate of this lithe mercenary wove seamlessly into it's own rigid scaling with faint decorum and heavy steel vanbraces. Twitching it's tale and vertebrae in time the beast then spoke.

"Generous of you ..Riconuuus." The words were to imply intimate laqour. "Pity few here give a tred as to the potency. " It flicked it's tongue instinctly out between a lodged snout watching the fiery haired titan leave. "Carat sways hearts as it may." Turning it's vision, the Dracon faced Xind'ell with even poise once more.
"Respect. No master here will simply hand the freedom of their command and risk the lives of it's brethren unproven... You must earn your keep and your place. Several ways to accomplish this, but I'll make it easy. See.. that Dark Elf.. Volund. He runs with the pups beneath soft flesh softer Pia Mater. Word is his crew is to sack one of the very caravans we've meant to protect.. Tonight." The beast shivered stepping in close and silent. "Were you to prove such an event. Justify such a cause with exacting force.. perhaps there would be sway to the Strength of your glazed vision." Mock shrugging the lizard then turned to leave, spilling speech over the shoulder. "I'd be impressed.."

The Curse dispersed along with several others as rumor of the ambush location shed due west towards the base of a rock filled mountain. There were two remaining companies pulling coin up from the crust of the snowbed. Rough yewn and desperate men easily turned and happily bought. A fierce dwarf with full facial tattoos and braided dyed beard limped through the crowd.

"Forti One. That's how many souls ye just bought stranger." He extended a white palm. "Deepforge. Ivy Deepforge." The figure's face curled from cheer to menacing play in tone. "Best not mention slice as to the name yah?" The vapor of greed and horse droppings were all that would be left to claim. Trails of warriors cleft white hills in the distance while the pleated standard of an imperial emissary wavered to the east, coming to greater focus and size. Orders.. but who's to follow?

It was time to make camp and consider all things attended. Horrgin's dispatch demanded presence and formation surrounding the loggers of the Agarwood forests. Riconus had the quality of men for both tasks yet could only personally attend one. Upon not truly knowing the temporary right from wrong, would killing one loudmouth elven merc make good bathroom conversation for hundreds more? To act without reason could halt his ascension.. yet to turn down the chance for sudden success dare prove doubly fatal.

[Riconus Xind'ell]

Riconus could not help but give the widest of smiles as he witnessed the resistance of the mercenary leaders, as many left without care for his words. Perhaps it appeared somewhat sadistic, for Riconus to appear pleased when one would expect him to have a more depressed or angered disposition, but in reality, he relished the idea of swaying these men of war... by one mean, or the other.

As Tibero approached him, a dracon who likely stood at equal height as he considering the Syl'rosyan's unusual stature, he payed close attention to his words. Such crucial information given to him was a favour not to be soon forgotten, and he would be sure to take Tibero up on his offer. The very fact that Volund was indeed dark elven only made him more interested in seeing his men destroyed as quickly as possible. As the well-armoured dracon finished his words, Riconus replied only with "You will see me this darkening, Tibero..." before giving a stern nod of respect, and tending to the other mercenaries present.

As Ivy Deepforge approahced with his forty-one men, Riconus gave a solid salute to the stout dwarf and thanked him for his service. All the proper arrangements were made to ensure that he was given the Sapphire Guard's standard and introduced to his handful of officers that would be in charge of the general operations of his regiment. "Your alliance is my honor, Commander Deepforge. Have you a name for your group of soldiers?

Nevertheless, if it's an alliance that we have been able to forge this brightening, I would like to ask that we begin helping each other out as soon as possible. For you see, my men have been assigned to protect the woodsmen at Agarwood Forest, but a substantial amount of my men will need to be attending... other matters.

Alas, if your 41 men can assist 25 of my own at the forest, I'll add another 500 gold crowns to your coffers." While Riconus had enough to take care of both scenarios, it was preferable if as many of his Guardsmen could be present for his ambush on Volund- an ambush that Riconus would certainly be part of. He would place 25 men at Agarwood Forest if Deepforge was able to assist, and 50 if he was not. Regardless, he still had well over 100 Guardsmen ready for their attack on Volund, and he still directed his officers with the same directive, after his talks with the mercenary leaders had concluded.

Once Riconus was finally able to retreat back into his commanders tent, the following orders were given. "Alright gentlemen, your orders are as follows.

Take the remaining men not required for the protection of Agarwood Forest, and assemble them as the suns begin to set, in full battle kit. They will be coming with me along the route of caravans Tibero's men are supposed to guard. He says that Volund, another mercenary warlord, is plotting to raid him on that route... that's where we come in.

Is all goes well, we will be able to counter-attack Volund's men. All Guardsmen are given authorization to kill any and all attackers, and 100 crowns goes to the man that can capture Volund for me, alive."


***********

As the darkening fell, Riconus made his way along the route of Tibero's caravan, his